


517. Next time I'mma stay asleep

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Media Types, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Related, Brother/Brother Incest, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 10:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: Mike's enjoying himself, when Richie wakes up.





	517. Next time I'mma stay asleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mielried](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mielried/gifts).



> Okay some of this reads a little angsty, but I promise that Mike wouldn't actually - well actually he'd care a lot, but just in a good, positive way, rather than the negative way Richie might be imagining.

Richie couldn't tell what woke him up. Just one moment he was asleep, and the next, he was aware of the surrounding pillows and blankets, eyes squinting against the intrusion of wakefulness. He resisted it, trying to slip back into the comfort of sleep, until he heard a hitch of breath from the bed three feet away. It was so loud in the quiet of the night that it made Richie's ears ring, questions flitting in to his brain, prying open his eyes just a little more as a mixture of curiosity and concern piqued.

Still, and silent, Richie's eyes opened to the popcorn ceiling overhead. Pupils immediately working to adjust to the moonlight shining through the double-paned window. Their room was already mostly blue, but the light carried with it hues of the sky, and every illuminated piece of their room was in blue, too. Even Richie's pink hoodie, which hung from their door, looked to be of purple because it. Where his hands rested on his stomach, they flexed, upon hearing another soft, bitten-back noise from Mike's location.

His brother's name was palpable on his tongue, and his lips. Could be felt in the twinge of his jaw. But then came a sigh. A sound far from alarming. It sounded warm, and pleased. The type of sigh that caressed you, held you by the chin, and kissed you gently.

_Oh._

No longer frightened to look over and see his brother in harm's way, the monster under the bed come out to play, or some apparition holding him by his throat - Richie rolled his head to the side, ever so slowly, blinking across the short distance.

A lump formed in his throat, thick, and hard to swallow around, as his eyes widened. Not just at what he was seeing, but out of surprise. As he felt a rush to his center, warmth enveloping his cock, pricking it up, making his own breath catch at the quickness of it.

Even half-way to blind, Richie'd been close enough to Mike, growing up, and had watched enough porn - played with himself enough - to be able to make up where his vision lacked. Mike had his hand wrapped around his dick, hard and pointing up his body to the underneath of his chin. Another hand covering his mouth. In vain, obviously, eyes screwed shut, from what Richie could tell, but the way his eyelashes spread flush over his cheeks. His blankets were kicked down to just below his knees, and his tiny briefs, made to fit over bony hips, were pressed down below his sack. Richie could even imagined that they were flushed red, through the blue light from outside. The head of his cock shining and dark.

 _Shit,_ Richie thought, one hand moving down his stomach to adjust himself over his boxers. Relieving some of the strain against the fabric. He tried to will it down, tell the blood to flow in other directions. But then Mike - his Mike - let out another broken moan that was pure fuel to the fire. Richie tried not to breathe sharp, or loud, but he was desperate to steady himself. Remove himself from the situation, somehow. Not give into the gentle ache growing in his balls, or feed the confusion in his mind.

Part of him edging toward the idea that he was just having a weird dream, and his body was reacting, so what. Whatever. Sometimes he had dreams about his mom, even an uncle once. It didn't matter because when he woke up those thoughts made him feel sick; he wasn't - he didn't want them. It wasn't real. So that had to be what was happening here...

Only it wasn't, and he knew it. He knew it well enough that he carefully began slinking further into the shadows of his bed, pressing back against the wall, wary of making any sound. If anything, Richie could have made a noise on purpose. Closed his eyes, and coughed. Reenacted someone tossing and turning. It probably would have made Mike shy in an instant. Scared. Worried enough to stop and move to the bathroom to finish off, or just go back to sleep with his cock hard and pressed between his thighs, up along his stomach.

Richie swallowed harsh, again, at the thought of Mike doing just that, only to end up humping the head of his cock against his sheets. Making a mess everywhere, having to do laundry the next morning... Richie wondered what excuse he'd come up with. Since they frequently waited for Karen to berate them into cleaning their rooms. Wondered if he'd blush and tell Richie that it was none of his business, all haughty and pretend better-than. He wanted to groan, smack himself in the face for finding that so much more appealing than usual. He already liked when his brother got that way. Sure, it was cute, and amusing, and what wasn't there to like about it? But... why did it have to be _hot_ all of the sudden?

His hand had never quite made it back up to his stomach. It was still positioned over his swollen cock, and it was all too easy to squeeze at it. Experimentally. Like maybe this was just his imagination, and it wouldn't actually feel good.

Of course, it did. As it always had. And all at once the temptation became undeniable. Richie's eyes flicked to the side again, from where he'd closed them around the breath of pleasure radiating out from his center, then up to the ceiling out of a moment of panic.

Mike was still fisting his cock, hand steady and sure. Movements studied. He felt himself flush like this was a new concept. Mike: Knowing how to get himself off. Just because they'd never caught each other before didn't mean it wasn't pretty obvious. The older they got, the more into boys and girls they got... Richie knew. He just - he just didn't _know_. But seeing his brother do it so practiced... Watching his jaw tighten, throat muscles swallow back saliva before letting out a little whine from within his chest...

Richie couldn't fathom it.

And yet, there the evidence was, right in front of him.

He slithered his hand back up, under his comforter, and then passed the elastic band of his boxers, sucking in a breath through his nose with his eyes trained steadily on Mike's face, as he got his palm, and his fingers wrapped around his own erection. Making certain Mike wouldn't turn to look his way, hearing some minute brush of fabric, or something else Richie's brain was too fuzzy to recognize.

The pad of his thumb fell over his slit, and his hips jutted up, just slightly, before he caught himself, when he realized how much precum had beaded at the head. Some kind of sob. Confusion and relief and horror mixed up within his chest. And wrenched at his heart, there, trying to claw free. Nerves zinging and trilling as he allowed himself to rock his hips upward into his fist, at the same time as he brought it all the way down to his pelvic bone, arm colliding with his hip.

One, good thrust to get him started, prove to his cock he wasn't going to leave it wanting, before he firmly planted his hips to the bed, in order to avoid as much noise and movement as possible.

Finally, he set up an rhythm, staccato in moments of brief revelation before lust swept back over him and numbed the fear. But it was simple, thumb knuckle dragging up his body. It was then, that he let his eyes rake down his brother's body again. Watching the flushed tip of Mike's erection disappear passed rings of fingers, and back into the moonlight again. _How could it be so pretty?_ It wasn't that different from his own... And somehow, it was the hottest, most beautiful cock he'd ever seen. Made his toes curl, to imagine the _good_ rolling over him, was being felt in his brother's bed just the same. They got off in different ways, that much was obvious. But he knew it had to feel the same.

To add, because what, at this point, would be crossing the line? Richie felt his mouth drop open slightly, the image of having Mike's cock in his mouth, the tip sliding back to hit his throat, making it so. He wondered if Mike tasted different. They ate mostly the same. Neither of them really did much of anything differently. But still, he wondered. And he wanted to see. Wanted to taste him. Mike was so wet, still shining with it in the blue light, and -

Richie's eyes flew open even wider as Mike gurgled suddenly, before clasping his hand tighter to his mouth, cum spraying out from his cock, over his bare stomach, catching the light, too. And Richie could've cried at the waste of it. Knowing in that moment, he'd have gladly sucked Mike down for all he was worth, savored every last drop of him.

The surprise of it had caused Richie's hand to pause briefly. And then he was afraid Mike would come into too much self-awareness, as he began to put himself away, and back into bed. So Richie kept his hand still, only letting his thumb tease his slit, as he closed his eyes, listening. Heart wrenching as a tissue was slipped from the box on their bedside table. As it hit the side of the plastic grocery bag within their waste bin, and as Mike let out a shaky sigh, before pulling his covers back up.

Biting into his lip, Richie kept his eyes screwed shut, trying to burn the image of what he'd just seen into his mind, stripping his cock as fast as he could without calling attention, in case his brother took longer to unwind from an orgasm, back into restfulness. But it wasn't much. Not much at all till he was cumming over his own hand, into the lip of his boxers, feet curving down onto the bed for leverage. He shook his cock, brushing against the cloth of his boxers, cum pooling out through the fibers. But he didn't care. Nerves lit up, and satisfied with the odd abrasion, the sensation to his sensitive head.

Then, chest heaving with breaths he couldn't rightly take, Richie pressed his head deep into his pillows, shuddering into his mattress as he realized what he'd done. It weighted him to the bed for long, drawn out minutes. Until he finally admitted defeat, and gave one more glance to his sleeping brother's back.

Sliding out from beneath his covers, Richie moved to change his boxers, quietly, balling his used ones up as tight as he could manage, before wrapping them in a still clean tee from their bureau, and into the hamper for washing tomorrow. Now _he_ might end up the one having to make up an excuse, all blushing and stammering, scrambling for words. But more importantly, he'd have to find a way to look his brother in the eyes again, without feeling heat pool in his belly, and shame drive up his pulse.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the fucking most awesome song: "do re me" by blackbear and Gucci Mane


End file.
